Into the Pit
by MeAzrael
Summary: SPN100 Challenge, word: lamp. When reports of missing people start to pop up, the Winchesters decide to take a closer look at the old mining town near the Mosquito Pass.
1. Chapter 1

**Into the Pit**

**SPN100 Challenge, word: lamp**

**Summary:** When reports of missing people start to pop up, the Winchesters decide to take a closer look at the old mining town near the Mosquito Pass.

**A/N:** Since I've been an awfully lazy drabbler the last few months, I decided to start with a multi-chapter drabble story into 2020. Let's see how that'll work ;-)) So here's the first act …

* * *

The rising sun had set the mountaintops near the derelict mining town on fire. Autumn leaves glowed in red and yellow and green. It was like entering a glossy tourism brochure for the Rocky Mountains – all beauty and adventure. Apart from the fact, that seven people had gone missing around the Mosquito Pass over the past two months, and the last cellphone signals pointed towards the abandoned gold mine.

"Hey, ready to get going?"

Dean grabbed his headlamp, took a deep breath of cold, clear air and followed his brother down to the entrance.

Dread was close on his heels.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Public authorities had barred the entrance.

Judging from the splintered slats on the ground nobody cared.

Big surprise.

They entered the tunnel, switching on their headlamps.

The walls were roughly carved, the path leading down steep and slippery with scree.

"Damnit!" Dean swore, touching the spot where he'd grazed his scalp.

"How could anyone work here, apart from friggin dwarves?"

Sam winced in sympathy. "It was the gold rush. People left their homes and families to get a piece of the cake. They drilled the stone by hand, mostly in complete darkness. Must've been..."

A scream drowned his last word.


	3. Chapter 3

Something caught his foot and he fell, crashing to the floor with a thud.

He fought, panic pouring through his body, gripping him with hot tendrils of fear.

"Lemme go, son of a bitch… get off…"

He stared into a blinding light, feeling hands holding him down…

"Dean! For God's sake, stop struggling."

Sammy?

He blinked, watching his brother free his foot from the straps of a backpack.

"Crap", he panted, not sure if he should feel embarrassed or relieved.

"Yeah", Sam confirmed grimly, drawing his fingers from the straps and examining them under the light.

They glistened with blood.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N:Sorry for the little break – I've had a cold last week, my brain was out of order ;-)

The backpack contained a bottle of water, a hoodie, a small hammer and stone chisel, chocolate bars and the ID of Jason Carter – a student who'd been reported missing three days ago together with his girlfriend Laura.

"You think they were really hoping to find gold?" Dean asked, peeping at the chocolate.

"Guess so", Sam replied. "Looks like something found THEM instead."

They followed the dark patches of dried blood deeper inside the mountain until they stopped dead in front of a toppled mine cart and a trail of rusty rails.

Dean whistled.

Both winced, when the sound echoed back.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** A little extra chapter for those who are with Dean and Sam down there :-) Enjoy.

* * *

The beams of their headlights danced over the ground. The blood trail was gone, but the metal rails showed fresh grinding marks.

"Seems like our fugly grabbed a mine cart for his take-away meal", Dean said.

The darkness was pressing down on him, reaching out sticky tentacles to invade his mind. Images tried to crawl up from where he'd buried them. He'd never get rid of them.

The pain. The fear. The desperation. The self-loathing…

"Dean? You alright?"

He swallowed.

"Sure, m'fine. Let's follow the rails. Maybe there's still time to save them."

As if it ever worked like that.

* * *

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

Ghosts, gnomes, ghouls, even evil dwarves, for God's sake – they had discussed every creature likely to live in abandoned mines and grab hikers.

They still had no clue what they were hunting.

There was no sound but their labored breathing in the stifling air and the tock-tock of their boots on wooden sleepers.

Dean tried to ignore the memories assaulting him. The cutting and carving and pleading and cursing. The stench of blood and…

"You smell that?"

He froze.

Impossible. Sam couldn't …

His brother was scraping something from the wall with his knife, sniffing at the yellow substance.

Sulfur!

* * *

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Okay, I skipped the 100-word-drabble-rule for the sake of progress ;-) Hopefully I can add a new chapter this week – cross my fingers.

* * *

Dean almost choked when the all too familiar smell hit him.

He gagged, turning away from his brother, the knife, the substance that was connected to so many dark images. Real ones and the fake images his torturers had planted into his mind to cut away everything that tied him to life. His trust, his love, his dedication.

„Dean, what's wrong?"

He recoiled when he felt Sam's hand on his shoulder, then leaned into the touch for a second before he straightened.

„A shrink would call it PTSD", he heard himself admit – much to his own surprise. "Guess this place stirs up some ghosts I failed to salt and burn."

His brother blinked, knowing better than to offer any words of comfort. He also knew that he would have to knock Dean out and drag him back to his car if he wanted him to drop this hunt. So he played his "annoying nerd" card because nothing spelled normality better than that.

"Did you know that people started mining sulfur in ancient times? The Egyptians used it for medicines, the Greek to bleach cloth and in China sulfur was part of the oldest gunpowder recipes. Probably it was part of the Greek fire too – a combustive agent used for sea battles by the Byzantines. Kind of an antique flame thrower. Some historians …"

"Jeez, Sammy – cut your academic diarrhea and let's get a move on," huffed Dean, but Sam could see the smile on his face.

They followed the rails until they bumped into an abandoned mine card.

There was a dried pool of blood on the bottom. Something glittered in the light… a silver hair clip with an intricate inlay made of turquoise.

The brothers exchanged looks.

Maybe Laura had lost the gem when she was picked up. Or she had left a sign – hoping against all odds that someone would come looking for her.

"Where the Hell is that son of a bitch?" Dean whispered.

Sam looked around. They had focused on the rails, not really checking for side corridors.

"He must have a hideout nearby," he breathed. "We gotta look for hidden openings."

He tapped at his headlight, a question in his eyes.

Dean closed his eyes, shaking his head slightly.

He knew that their lights could warn the bastard – but feeling his way through utter darkness never knowing what was waiting for him in this Pit?

Just.

Not.

Bloody.

Happening!

* * *

TBC


End file.
